


Astraphobia

by smallstarfox



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blankets, Comfort No Hurt, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Dark Past, F/F, Fear, Feelings, Fluff, Hugs, Love, Panic Attacks, Past Lives, Phobias, References to Depression, Thunderstorms, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25998664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallstarfox/pseuds/smallstarfox
Summary: Yaz finds out the Doctor has a very specific and intense phobia of thunderstorms.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	Astraphobia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyYoungKing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyYoungKing/gifts).



> **Please take notes of the following tags: referenced depression, panic attacks, self deprication, discussions of phobias, discussion of past lives (dark!doctor)**
> 
> Happy Birthday Charlie~!  
> I hope this is what you wanted haha
> 
> I am absolutely here for the Doctor having a fear of something they can 100% rationalise and talk all the science about  
> Because I will die on the hill that this is absolutely something 13 could theoretically be scared of in the right circumstances, especially post s12

Astraphobia. An extreme fear of thunder and lightning. Symptoms including: excessive anxiety, panic attacks, flight response, irritation. The Doctor could list off every phobia in the known universe, could tell you how they psychologically affected individuals, ways to combat them. The Doctor could also tell you every scientific fact about thunderstorms. Thunderstorms are caused by the rise of layers of moist and warm air rising in a large updraft. Columns of cool air sink down to the ground again, striking the ground. Electrical charges accumulate on cloud particles. Enough charges and lightning happens. The shockwaves are thunder rolling. She knew all of it. She could generate storms with a bucket of water and her sonic. Even the TARDIS could cause storms, if she so chose to. The Doctor understood everything to do with thunder and lightning, it was science. She loved science. It was her favourite subject, physics. Second only to chemistry. The Doctor also loved meteorology. So, a phobia of the things she loved? Absolutely atrocious. Illogical. Incomprehensible. It made absolutely no-

**_Crash_ **

Adrenaline. Heart palpitations. Nausea. Shortness of breath. Eyes glazing over.

**_Flash_ **

With a high pitched whine, the Doctor's body froze up, eyes wide like a deer searching the horizon for a roaming predator. There was no immediate threat. She was safe in the TARDIS. There was absolutely no way that lighting could get into the console room unless she actually wanted it to. It could channel through the crystals, light the room up, short all the controls and pilot them all to certain doom.

That was a completely unwarranted thought.

Fingers gripped tighter to the side of the console, knuckles turning white from the pressure she placed onto the cold metal. Everything was fine. Nothing could get her. She was just being silly. When had this body become a mess of anxiety? Had it always been this bad? Loud noises were just that. Noises. Storms were just natural phenomena. Time Lords could regulate all of their bodily functions independently, thanks to their increased brain capacity, so why couldn’t she get a grip of herself? She could feel the vibrations of the storm shifting underneath her feed, slithering through the metal and the wood, creeping into her bones. Cumulus was famed for its storms, species would come from all over to see them. The Doctor was only really supposed to be passing through the area, but had been pulled down by a distress signal. As usual. She had checked, checked and triple checked the TARDIS systems for any coming storms, and everything had been fine. It was just her luck, then, that as they waited for morning, one would make itself known. Suddenly. Without warning. The Doctor couldn’t exactly abandon the planet - nor the people she was going to be helping out in exchange for a highly specific piece of kit - but oh how she wanted to. She wanted to pilot the TARDIS as far away from Cumulus as she could. Maybe go to somewhere nicer, like a desert planet. A forest. Somewhere hot and dry, with no chance of rising pressure and rain and electrical charges coming together to completely shut her body down.

**_Crack_ **

“Doctor? What are y-”

“Ah!”

In a flurry of frantic limbs, the Doctor twisted on her heels and brandished her sonic out into the console room, eyes wide and mouth open as she honed in on the would-be assailant. Except, there was no threat. No danger. Just Yaz, in her pyjamas, holding her hands in front of her chest try to look unthreatening. Oh. Right. Her fam were on board. They should be asleep. Why wasn’t Yaz asleep? It took several long seconds before the Doctor realised Yaz had stepped a little closer, eyes filled with confusion. Hazel-green eyes looked at her sonic, arm quickly dropping to her side as she turned her attention to anywhere that wasn’t Yaz. She wanted to brush it off with a smile, a joke, but her mouth closed and remained glued shut the longer she felt eyes on her.

“Are you alright?”

The Doctor eventually managed to look at Yaz, nodding rapidly and trying her best to smile. Both hands twitched against the side of her coat, sonic heating up under her harsh grip. Her bizarre lack of communication did nothing to deter Yaz from taking another step forward and inquiring again.

“Really? Because you don’t look okay, Doctor. Don’t think I didn’t notice the whole sonic-in-my-face deal.”

The Doctor reacted as if the sonic screwdriver suddenly became molten lava, the device dropping to the floor with a clatter. The sharp noise alone made her jump slightly, scrambling down to pick it back up again and pushing it deep inside the right coat pocket. She did manage to fit a smile on, then, but her eyes still stayed far away from looking directly at Yaz.

“What? Me? I’m fine. Really. I just didn’t expect anyone to be awake, you know? What are you doing awake anyway? You should be in bed. Resting. Asleep. Dreaming. Repairing. You really need to get some rest before tomo-”

**_Flash_ **

**_Crack_ **

**_Rumble_ **

“AH!”

A flash of white light came through the TARDIS windows, the floors vibrating from the force of the thunder rolling through the clouds overhead. In a matter of seconds, Yaz had gone from looking at the Doctor with her back to the console, to her crouched on the floor. Her arms were wrapped over the top of her head as she tried to make herself as small as physically possible, shoulders quaking as she started to mumble to herself. Quickly dropping down herself, Yaz shuffled closer to the Doctor, arm hovering just over her as she debated whether or not to rest it against her body. She could barely make out what was being said through chattering teeth and short, sharp breaths.

“On-oncoming...storm...twenty-nine...thousand...degrees...hot...oncoming...storm...danger...me...didn’t mean...bringer...of darkness...sorry...I’m sorry...cumulonimbus...air pressure…”

Yaz placed her arm across the Doctor’s shoulders, heard an almost child-like sob as she shrank even further in on herself, to a position that looked borderline painful. She pulled her in closer, until both arms came around her and Yaz could feel the tension rippling through the Doctor’s body as teeth clashed against each other and more strings of sounds and words came over her lips. While she had no idea what was immediately happening, Yaz knew a panic attack when she saw one. Though, it was slowly becoming much more severe than that. Hands stroked against the soft material of her coat, calm words of safety trying to break through the barrier of lost control.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Doctor, I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She repeated the phrases over and over again, clinging tight to the Doctor as she continued to barely breathe and ramble. There was another loud crash of thunder outside the doors, and when the Doctor’s arms came around her, Yaz realised that it was the storm causing the violent reaction. She remembered being scared of thunder and lightning as a kid - most sharp and sudden noises, really - though she couldn’t remember how the fear went away. Perhaps it had just been time. Something, she realised, was not really on her side nor in her control. Yaz didn’t know how long the storm was going to go on for, nor how much worse the Doctor was likely to get if it kept on raging around the TARDIS. She needed to move her somewhere else, somewhere hopefully a little more quiet. But the Doctor was still in the throws of a panic attack, all breathing now stopping as she continued to ramble a little more clearly.

“Five times ten to the power of eight kilograms of water vapour is lifted up and the amount of energy outputted from this when it condenses is ten to the power of fifteen joules.”

The Doctor was still quoting physics, barely a pause between the words and most of them blending together into strange sounds, often offset by other unintelligible words. Yaz kept hearing mention of an oncoming storm, and apologies. Clearly, there was something else involved with the phobia. She continued to hush and shush the Time Lord, holding her close as she stroked up into her hair and tried to keep her still from quaking. Several more cracks of lightning and a deep bellow of thunder rolled through the TARDIS, the storm showing no signs of stopping, leaving Yaz unable to wait any longer for it to pass. She squeezed her way underneath the Doctor, trying to break her tightly wound body and find her face.

“Doctor, I know you’re scared. It’s okay. I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay here though, not so close to all the noise. Do you think you can come with me to my room? I’m sure it won’t take long at all. Then, you can go under the duvet and we can wait it out together. Would that help?”

There was another whimper and a whine, the Doctor's eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched tight to stop the clash of her teeth. Anguish was etched into every little line of her face, dried tears stuck to her cheeks and gluing strands of hair down the sides of her face. In the lull of the storm, Yaz could hear her talking again through gritted teeth.

"Oncoming storm...the great exterminator...dark lord...dangerous...I'm dangerous...I can't...dangerous...I'll hurt you...I'll hurt you like I've hurt everyone else...leave me...please...I deserve to get struck down…"

What was she talking about?

"Come on, Doctor. I'm not talking no for an answer. My room is safe. I promise. The storm can't get you there."

Again, Yaz was met with a whisper and a murmur and a whine, though the Doctor at least didn't recoil any further. She could feel the tremors dissipating slightly, which gave her a moment to change position. Yaz moved around behind the Doctor, keeping one arm across her shoulders as the other wrapped across her chest. It took a few moments of gentle and repetitive encouragement to get her up onto her feet, but eventually Yaz coaxed the Doctor to move. Her footsteps were heavy and dragged across the floor, which surprised Yaz. Considering the fear and anxiety the Doctor was clearly experiencing, she had expected her to bolt. That's what she normally did when she was agitated. Still, it made her job a little easier, and the Doctor's body slowly began to lose some of the tension it held, the further away from the console room they moved. The deep bellow and rumbles could still be heard to a degree, though the flashes of lightning had completely vanished. Yaz felt a gentle pull towards a new direction - a right turn, instead of a left - and she was quickly greeted by an open bedroom door.

"Thank you."

With the TARDIS having moved the room around just for her, Yaz guided the Doctor towards her bed. Her teeth had stopped clashing together, her body no longer wracked by violent tremors, and she had done disturbingly quiet. She helped to sit her down on the edge, leaning down to undo the tight knots of her laces so that she could kick her boots to one side. The last thing Yaz wanted, really, was mud in her bed. Again. After that, it only took a few more moments and a heave of the quilt before she and the Doctor were safely nestled inside it’s warmth. The TARDIS brightened the light in the room, enough so that both of them could see better, but Yaz noticed that the Doctor still wouldn’t look at her. While her eyes were no longer wild with fright, there was something else there, another unsettling feeling that Yaz felt like she wanted to dig at. She didn’t like the Doctor being quiet, especially if she was clearly locking something away. Deliberately or not.

She slid her hand over the mattress and pressed it against her knee, squeezing to encourage her to look up, even a little. A few strokes back and forth of her thumb against bare skin finally coaxed the Doctor out of her stupor. Red rings circled her eyes, the same colour blushing her cheeks and down her neck. Tears still hung in the corners, whether from residual panic or the unknown look of something more deep and meaningful. The Doctor’s hair fanned across her face from the weight of Yaz’s duvet, and she reached over with her free hand to push some back behind her ear and get a real feel for the thick air quickly developing around them.

“Th-thanks, Yaz.”

The Doctor’s voice was small again, timid and cautious, hazel-green eyes barely managing to focus on her for more than half a second. Yaz shook her head slowly, humming a few beats as she continued to gently make patterns against the Doctor’s knee.

“Always, Doctor. And before you even think of apologising, don’t. I was up anyway. Something felt wrong, and I guess the TARDIS had something to do with it. Lead me back to the console room. To you. To make sure you were okay. Why didn’t you mention that you’re scared of thunder and lighting?”

She stilled her hand briefly, feeling the Doctor flinch and tense up again. It hurt to have to ask, to call into question the fact that the Time Lord had still told them next to nothing about herself, but Yaz needed to talk. To get her to open up. To say anything at all. Afterall, it was the only way she could do something to help. Eventually, the Doctor went slack again, head hanging low as she mumbled into her chest.

“Didn’t know. Never been a problem. Shouldn’t. Shouldn’t be a problem. Irrational. Stupid.”

“A phobia doesn’t have to make sense, though, it just-”

“But it _should_!”

Yaz felt her heart stop briefly as the Doctor’s head swung up sharply and she bit out her words through gritted teeth. The strange expression had been replaced by anger, her eyes dark and shifting constantly as she studied Yaz’s response.

“It _should_ make sense. It does make sense. But it still shouldn’t be a thing. I’m better than that, better than this, better than...than…”

“Better than what, Doctor?”

It was Yaz’s turn to feel small. She pulled her hand away from the Doctor, resting both in her lap as a deeply uncomfortable sense of unease washed over her. She had seen the darkness in the Doctor’s eyes before, but it was always directed at something else. Someone else. In moments that she wondered if the Doctor really knew she was there or not. Under her fixed stare, she felt incredibly human. And the Doctor looked ancient.

“Better than me. Better than everything I ever have been. Better than, him, and him, and him, and all of them! I should be better than the horrible things I’ve done, the things I’ve seen, the pain I’ve caused and held onto and kept hidden deep down inside me. I should be better than humanity. Better than the Daleks, or the Cybermen. I’m the most powerful being in the whole universe, I can see space and time and everything and nothing, every moment, everything that is or will ever be. I can see it all, feel it all, it is me. I am _everything_. I am pain, and fear, and suffering. I am loss, despair, grief, rage, betrayal. I am the worst of every race in the known universe, wrapped up into something so small. So hard to contain. The storms remind me of who I am, who I have been. They even called me the Oncoming Storm. I cause death and destruction and chaos, all masquerading as kindness and understanding and good-will to all. I’m not a good person, Yaz. Never have been...never will...and if that storm would come and strike me down...well...it wouldn’t kill me, wouldn’t even phase me. I’d just regenerate, carry on, go off into the great unknown and do what I do best. Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m cursed to do nothing for the rest of my days...just exist.”

As the Doctor spoke, her voice started off loud and bitter and full of pain. She spat and shouted and stared Yaz down with such fierce intensity, she swore she saw her recoil. But then, her tone shifted. She became sullen, forlorn, dejected and hopeless. The Doctor spoke slower, drawled her words, turned her eyes down to the mattress and heaved weary sighs. The childlike nature came back, the more she spoke. Yaz stayed silent and still the whole time, barely managing to process one bit of information to the next. Then, she was silent too, leaving only the syrupy thick air filled with so many unspoken words. How could she begin to respond to that? Words wouldn't cover anything, wouldn't make a dent into the dark cavern she had been presented with. With tears burning the corners of her eyes, Yaz did the only thing she could think of.

Arms outstretched. She pulled the Doctor in. She crushed her against her body, clung to her with all the power she could manage. Fingers knotted into the fabric of her coat as they wrapped around her hips and once again Yaz felt the Doctor freeze up. She was always so distant, it was a surprise then that she felt a tight grip around her own waist. The Doctor lay her head against Yaz's shoulder and pressed her face into the crook of her neck. Yaz felt the cold touch of her nose against her skin, found herself smiling as the Doctor moved back and forth and huffed warm air to chase the cool. It was a thrilling contrast, though the irony of it all was not lost on her. No doubt, it would be the only time that Yaz would experience some kind of openness from the Doctor, though she vowed to cherish every little drop of it for the rest of her days.

"You're not alone, Doctor. Don't _ever_ think that. We love you. All of you. No matter what that may be. You aren't the same person you were before. You're so much greater than you can see. Please, don't ever forget that, don't forget how much you mean to us. To me."

The Doctor huffed a quiet laugh, followed by a sigh.

"You know...I think I've found a way to fix my phobia."

"Oh?"

Pulling herself away from Yaz, the Doctor's face slowly spread into a smile as she gave a shallow now.

"Hugs from Yaz. Brilliant."

Yaz couldn't stop a similar smile appearing on her face, followed by a laugh at the ridiculousness of such a confession while underneath her duvet. In the middle of a storm. Oh, Ryan was going to have a day. Though, she pushed that thought outside her head - along with the image of Graham giving her a fatherly talk - and focused on something else entirely. A brand new thought, one that had quickly burst onto the surface of her mind the more she looked at the Doctor.

"You know. If you want anything else...you can just ask me."

She watched as the Doctor's eyes went wide again, though it wasn't fear this time. Yaz knew exactly what was going on inside the Time Lord's head. It was a comfort, as well as a little bit of a pleasant surprise.

"Really?"

"Anything at all."

"I have one idea…"

Of course she did. 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't forgotten my AUs  
> I'm just not in the right frame to write happy fluffy sweet stuff, but hopefully soon  
> You'll know when it drops, I won't shut up about it
> 
> Again, feel free to say hi on twitter or Tumblr, I go by the same name on both sites~


End file.
